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Chromosome 6 by Robin Cook. Chapter 10, 11

no tuition for me or Vinnie junior forever.’

‘I do have to answer to the parent corporation,’ Raymond squeaked. He

cleared his throat.

‘Fine,’ Vinnie said. ‘Doesn’t bother me in the slightest. Explain to

them it’s a valid business expense. Hey, maybe you could even use it as

a deduction on your taxes.’ Vinnie laughed heartily.

Raymond shuddered imperceptibly. He knew he was being unfairly muscled,

yet he had little choice. ‘Okay,’ he managed.

‘Thank you,’ Vinnie said. ‘Gosh, I guess this is going to work out after

all. We’ve become sort’a business partners. Now I trust you have Cindy

Carlson’s address?’

Raymond fumbled in his pocket and produced Dr. Levitz’s business card.

Vinnie took it, copied down the address from the back, and handed it

back. Vinnie gave the address to Angelo.

‘Englewood, New Jersey,’ Angelo said, reading aloud.

‘Is that a problem?’ Vinnie asked.

Angelo shook his head.

‘Then, it’s arranged,’ Vinnie said, looking back at Raymond. ‘So much

for your latest problem. But I advise you not to come up with any more.

With our current tuition understanding it seems to me you’re out of

bargaining chips.’

A few minutes later, Raymond was out on the street. He realized he was

shaking as he looked at his watch. It was close to five and getting

dark. Stepping off the curb, he raised his hand to flag a cab. What a

disaster! he thought. Somehow he would have to absorb the cost of

maintaining Vinnie Doinick’s and his son’s double for the rest of their

lives.

A cab pulled over. Raymond climbed in and gave his home address. As he

sped away from the Neopolitan Restaurant, he began to feel better. The

actual cost of maintaining the two doubles was minuscule, since the

animals lived in isolation on a deserted island. So the situation wasn’t

that bad, especially since the potential problem with Cindy Carlson was

now solved.

By the time Raymond entered his apartment his mood had improved

significantly, at least until he got in the door.

‘You’ve had two calls from Africa,’ Darlene reported.

‘Problems?’ Raymond asked. There was something about Darlene’s voice

that set off alarm bells.

‘There was good news and bad news,’ Darlene said. ‘The good news was

from the surgeon. He said that Horace Winchester is doing miraculously

and that you should start planning on coming to pick him and the

surgical team up.’

‘What’s the bad news?’ Raymond asked.

‘The other call was from Siegfried Spallek,’ Darlene said. ‘He was a

little vague. He said there was some trouble with Kevin Marshall.’

‘What kind of trouble?’ Raymond asked.

‘He didn’t elaborate,’ Darlene said.

Raymond remembered specifically asking Kevin not to do anything rash. He

wondered if the researcher had not heeded his warning. It must have had

something to do with that stupid smoke Kevin had seen.

‘Did Spallek want me to call back tonight?’ Raymond asked.

‘It was eleven o’clock his time when he called,’ Darlene said. ‘He said

he could talk to you tomorrow.’

Raymond groaned inwardly. Now he’d have to spend the entire night

worrying. He wondered when it was all going to end.

CHAPTER 11

———-

MARCH 5, 1997

11:30 P.M.

COGO, EQUATORIAL GUINEA

KEVIN heard the heavy metal door open at the top of the stone stairs and

a crack of light cascaded in. Two seconds later, the string of bare

lightbulbs in the ceiling of the corridor went on. Through the bars of

his cell, he could see Melanie and Candace in their respective cells.

They were squinting as he was in the sudden glare.

Heavy footfalls on the granite stairs preceded Siegfried Spallek’s

appearance. He was accompanied by Cameron McIvers and Mustapha Aboud,

chief of the Moroccan guards.

‘It’s about time, Mr. Spallek!’ Melanie snapped. ‘I demand to be let out

of here this instant, or you’ll be in serious trouble.’

Kevin winced. It was not the way to talk with Siegfried Spallek on any

occasion, much less in their current circumstance.

Kevin, Melanie, and Candace had been huddling in utter blackness in

separate cells in the oppressively hot, dank, jail in the basement of

the town hall. Each cell had a small, arched window that opened into a

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